


Past Lives, Future Bonds

by DarkSeraphim



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSeraphim/pseuds/DarkSeraphim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Ian are two ordinary college professors and the closest of friends.  On a whim they decide to take advantage of a school vacation to take a road trip.  However the men soon learn that there is more to their spur of the moment decision than they originally believed.  Both men are being stalked by an old and ancient foe that threatens not only their friendship but also their very lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Introductions, Plain and Simple

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing!

The patrons of the bar chattered on mindlessly through the night. The normal endless calls for refills and the occasional laughter from some raucous joke did nothing to disturb the peaceful, normal air of the establishment. A TV was on, with some football game. A loud cheer went up as the favorite team scored a point. A couple of younger people, college kids, would go up on the small karaoke stage every so often, butchering some hip song that was popular at the time.

At around nine p.m. two men walked through the door, heading toward the booth closest to the stage. One of them carried a case, which he set down on the table while the other one headed onto the stage. The man with the case pulled out a guitar and followed his friend. He sat onto a stool that his friend had provided next to the machine and plugged it in to the karaoke machine. The one still standing conversed with his partner for a few seconds, and then flipped through the list of songs. Finally choosing one that his partner agreed with, he straightened and stood before the microphone.

The bar became a bit quieter than usual. It wasn't unusual for two people to do a song but no one really brought their own instrument very often. The man smiled at his friend then turned back to the audience. As the song started up, his friend began playing along, strumming his guitar with the song in perfect harmony. Now they had the audience's attention. The man at the microphone smiled and began his part of the duo.

 _All day  
Staring at the ceiling  
Making friends with shadows on my wall  
All night  
Hearing voices telling me  
That I should get some sleep  
Because tomorrow might be good for something  
Hold on  
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a  
Breakdown  
I don't know why  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know, right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be  
Me  
Talking to myself in public  
Dodging glances on the train  
I know  
I know they've all been talking 'bout me  
I can hear them whisper  
And it makes me think there must be something wrong  
With me  
Out of all the hours thinking  
Somehow  
I've lost my mind  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be  
I been talking in my sleep  
Pretty soon they'll come to get me  
Yeah, they're taking me away  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired  
I know, right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be  
Hey, how I used to be  
How I used to be, yeah  
Well I'm just a little unwell  
How I used to be  
How I used to be_

As the two men finished the song together, the bar erupted into cheers. There were shouts of 'Encore! Encore!' The singer waved to the crowd, his bright smile seemed to light up the whole bar. The one with the guitar flipped through the songs again. The bar settled down in anticipation. There was still some entertainment to go yet.

The two men finished four songs and left the stage, much to the disappointment of the crowd. The singer waved to the cheering audience and the two went back to their booth. They sat down and ordered drinks, the one putting his guitar back in its case. Their drinks came quickly, compliments of the establishment. The two men thanked the waitress and toasted one another. As the excitement settled down, the bar returned to its air of normalcy.

Observing them, the two men, in appearance, were drastically different. The singer was smaller, more compact that his six-foot muscular companion. Underneath the tight jeans and white t-shirt, one could see a fit, athletic body. His golden blonde hair fell just above his shoulder and his bright, sky blue eyes were framed by silver, wire-framed glasses.

His friend across from him with the guitar case was no less handsome. His tall, muscular body could be seen under the slightly baggier jeans, grey turtleneck and brown leather jacket. His honey brown hair reached his shoulders, framing his handsome face. His ice blue eyes shone with laughter as his friend related his final day before the break.

"I'm telling you, they weren't listening to a damn thing I was saying. They just sat there, like sheep! I think I heard snoring."

The larger man laughed. "Ian, it was the day before break. Naturally their minds were occupied with what they were going to do during break, not the French Revolution."

The blonde man, Ian, chuckled. "Yeah, well, you should have seen the looks on their faces when I told them that the lesson was going to be included in the next test. I think most of them will be spending break in the library."

Both men laughed. "Ian you are incorrigible." The larger man said.

"Come on Henry. Don't tell me you didn't have students dozing off in your class?"

"Yes I did." Henry said. "But unlike your class, mine was far enough ahead that we spent most of the day debating."

Ian huffed. "It's only one class that's behind. The rest were caught up and one was even further along than the others. Not all of us can be Anthro teachers you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henry scowled at his friend, the glare not reaching his eyes.

Ian's eyes twinkled with mirth and good-natured humor. "Nothing, Henry; nothing at all."

Henry growled, reached over and slapped the blonde on his arm. Ian merely smirked and waved the hand away. But they both sported large smiles and their eyes shone with laughter and promised retribution. Then the two had an easy discussion of the plans for after break, their class schedules and such. They had decided to make this road trip during the break and so far were having a good time.

Both men taught at a small university in Illinois, Ian as a History teacher and Henry as a teacher in Anthropology. They both had a Masters in teaching, and a PH.D in their respective subjects. Ian was 36, two years older than his friend. The two men had met in college, immediately hitting it off. Anyone who saw the two together would guess that they had been friends all of their lives. Some who knew them better would sooner peg the two as brothers.

The two carried on through the night, having a couple drinks but not enough to get drunk. The talked about various things, from university life to the football game that was now back up. After being on the road for the past few days it was nice to just sit and relax.

A couple more people went up to use the karaoke machine but no one had captured the audience quite like the two men. They weren't even planning on having such a large audience the way they did. They had just come up with the idea and went with it. Henry had brought his guitar with him so the two men decided to stop at the bar and sing karaoke before finding a hotel.

The night began to wind down as it got later. Henry and Ian remained at the booth for quite some time, chatting away mostly about mundane and ordinary things. Every once and a while, laughter would erupt from a badly told joke. When it reached around midnight, only the two men and a few here and there were left in the bar. The waitress was now serving water and coffee. Ian ordered his black and Henry ordered only water. The man couldn't stand coffee. Occasionally she flirted with either one of the two men, especially when the blonde flirted back. The big one however, seemed to be shy and even glared good naturally at his friend.

Henry sat a little straighter in his chair when Ian yawned in the middle of his sentence. The shadows under the blonde's eyes and the lines of exhaustion were more pronounced than they had been before. The man was exhausted. Henry frowned at the posture Ian suddenly adopted. He knew that posture; it was the one Ian used every time he wanted to hide something so Henry wouldn't worry. Well, he wasn't buying it this time.

Henry leaned forward, dropping his voice to a lower tone. "Ian, what's wrong?"

Ian blinked a few times in surprise then shook his head. "Nothing Henry, I'm just fine."

Henry snorted. "I haven't seen you look like this since college. You look like you haven't slept properly in days."

"I'm fine Henry. It's nothing you need to-" Ian was cut off by the look on Henry's face. His jaw was set in determination and his eyes pierced Ian with a look that clearly said, 'you will tell me or I will get it out of you one way or another.' Henry saved that look for when Ian was being particularly difficult. Ian sighed in resignation and leaned forward on the table, head in one hand. It was just a stupid dream, and not something he wanted to worry his friend over, right?

So then why was he so bothered by this?

Ian schooled himself into his best impassive face. "Henry, it is just stress." He gave a bit of a dramatic sigh he hoped Henry would buy. "I was staying up late to do work a few days before break. It's my fault. This road trip is actually doing me some good, though sleeping in a car isn't exactly comfortable either." Ian laughed, but Henry noticed that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Henry narrowed his eyes at his friend. There was something more to it, Henry was sure. But in response to Henry's glare, Ian countered with impassiveness and an innocent look that Henry didn't buy one bit. But he also saw the gleam of determination in his friend's eyes and knew that further probing would do no good. Ian could be stubborn to the point of ridiculousness, Henry knew. So he resigned, however reluctantly, that Ian would have to tell him on his own.

"Alright, but let's stop at that motel we saw a while back." He would weasel it out of him later.

Ian grinned. He knew why Henry was agreeing. He thought he would be able to weasel it out of Ian later... Just shows how much he knew. But the idea of a hotel sounded good to Ian. He needed a break from the road. A moving car wasn't the best place to get some sleep. He agreed readily to the hotel.

Since it was so late the two men decided to immediately retire. Henry could tell that his blonde friend was exhausted and needed the rest. The two traded a few barbs and jokes before turning in.

Henry was worried about Ian. He saw the way the man had practically collapsed on the hotel bed, yet he almost seemed reluctant to sleep. Maybe it was a nightmare that was bothering Ian? But Henry doubted it. Somehow he could tell it was something deeper than that. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew.

Ever since Henry could remember he had always had a sort of sixth sense. He could tell when people were lying to him or deceiving him and it was especially powerful where Ian was concerned. But he knew there was nothing he could do about it at this point.

Henry thought for a moment on what could be bothering his best friend. Was it a nightmare? Odd dreams? For a moment, Henry suddenly felt an urge to seriously talk with Ian, but both men were exhausted. With a reluctant sigh he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Ian, however, was having a little more difficulty sleeping than his friend. He mentally scolded himself. He was being scared over a stupid dream. Of course, every time the nightmare occurred he awoke screaming and drenched in sweat. He could never really remember the nightmare. All he could remember of it was fire, a demon in black robes, a dagger and dying. He remembered an endless abyss, a darkness swallowing his very soul.

His other dreams hadn't been that bad. Sometimes they were filled with monsters and horrible looking beasts, but those dreams were different. In those dreams he would see himself, fighting those creatures.

Ian wasn't a lazy man. He worked out regularly with Henry. Ian could defend himself if he needed to, but Ian could never see himself pulling off the moves he saw in his dreams. He saw them all the time in movies and on TV, but he was a college professor, not an athlete. He just never had the desire to learn basic martial arts.

Most of the time though, there would be someone with him, fighting by his side in his dreams. Ian could never get a good look at his face but the strange man felt very familiar. In all the years he had had these kinds of dreams, not once had Ian been able to figure out his identity. It was always just out of reach.

He saw himself fighting, at first, normal men. Normally ten or fifteen of they would surround him. But he would easily take care of all of them with minimal injuries, occasionally getting hit on the head with a stool or a chair.

Then there were the monsters. They were like apparitions out of mythology books. He saw hydras and Minotaurs, huge snakes rising up out of the sea. He always felt fear when he fought them, but it was nothing compared to the nightmare. In these dreams he would fight regardless instead of wanting to run in fear. It was in these ones where he most often saw the other man fighting with him. He never saw the face, but Ian had the feeling that he knew the man.

If anything, the dreams were entertaining, fun. He thought about them often, and was even thinking of writing down some of those fights and adventures. The only thing stopping him were the names of the people he saw in his dreams. Sure, he could make up names but it didn't seem right. The two men, himself and the mystery man, had names, he was sure of it.

He never told Henry though. For some reason, he felt as if he shouldn't. But Ian frowned at that thought; it wasn't as if Henry would call him crazy and lock him up somewhere. The two of them were too close; Henry would believe him and Ian knew it. But the thought still made him uncomfortable. Many times he thought that he should just tell Henry what was going on; tell Henry about the strange dreams of himself as a monster-slaying warrior and the nightmare that always left a cold feeling in his very soul and scared him beyond belief.

But secretly, Ian was a little ashamed that he was letting a nightmare intimidate him. Dreams were nothing more than manifestation of the subconscious. He was being childish and feared being told so from his best friend.

He thought back to the nightmare. He started having it two days before they decided to go on the road trip. It was beyond him why his subconscious would dream up such a horrifying thing. It was natural to have dreams of one dying, but that dream frightened more than any other nightmare he had ever had. But as Ian thought about it, the thing about it that made him miserable the most, was the image of the man that was in his other dreams. He remembered lying in the man's arms as he died. He couldn't see the face, but he felt the profound sadness as Ian died. That he was making this man miserable, that he was breaking his heart with his death, frightened Ian more than anything else in the dream.

Ian signed and flopped around on the bed, reveling in the soft pillows and blankets. Sleeping in a car for days was making him feel stiff. For a moment, he had the oddest thought that it was paradise compared to sleeping on the ground.

Ian paused to reflect a bit on their destination. They had left for break three days ago and had a week of break left. The two of them had decided to just go for a drive somewhere. They had no particular destination in mind. They were just driving.

Ian sat up as a sudden thought just hit him. Come to think of it, neither man knew where they were going. Neither one of them had even thought of where and when they would begin to turn back so they could get back to the college on time for classes.

Ian ran a hand through his curly blonde hair then turned to stare at the other bed, where Henry lay. The other man was in a deep sleep and was snoring slightly. Ian shook his head and laid back down, turning on his side to face the window. He thought it was very odd. The plan to drive was spontaneous. There had been no plans or preparation. They had just packed a duffel bag with clothes, personal items and laptops. Ian had even brought along his guitar as an afterthought. They had no idea where they were going. Hell, Ian didn't even know if they were in Colorado anymore and he had been the one driving for the last half hour before they stopped at the bar!

As Ian succumbed to sleep he resolved to talk about this with Henry seriously tomorrow. He didn't understand what was going on and it was bothering him. Tomorrow he would talk to the other man and discuss the rest of their trip. Oddly enough, the fact that they had just been driving with no direction didn't seem to bother Ian. On the contrary, he felt as if they were heading in the right direction. Ian groaned and fell asleep. He didn't want to think on this further until tomorrow. He just hoped the dreams would stay away tonight.


	2. Chapter Two:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of backstory for our two traveling professors, some bonding and a slight insight at the strangeness of their little trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I own nothing!

They checked out of the hotel the next morning and stopped at a diner for some breakfast.  Henry was glad to see that the sleep had done Ian some good.  Some of the exhaustion was gone and he looked brighter.  Ian’s smile always seemed to light up everything else around him. 

Henry treasured his friend’s smile and his seemingly endless supply of energy.  The man could hardly keep still most of the time.  Henry had once sat in one of Ian’s classes just for the heck of it.  He had nothing to do and he had something he wanted to discuss with the man later.

            Henry smiled as he remembered the way Ian seemed to bounce off of the walls of the classroom.  He was energetic and vibrant; he moved with his words and interacted with the students.  His students liked his bubbly, cheery personality and the man had gained a few female admirers.  Ian was a bit of a ladies man, but he never got too serious with anybody.  He once said that harmless flirtation was one thing; he wouldn’t get into a relationship, however, with someone he didn’t care seriously about.

 

 

Many years back, both men had been married.  Lily and Francine had been their names.  Unfortunately both of their wives and Henry’s son had died in a car accident three years after the marriages.  They’d had double weddings, and a month later Lily’s child Adam had been born.  Henry had loved the child as his own. 

Like Henry, Lily’s family had been killed when she was young.  Her uncle, who was an abusive drunk, had raised her.  It was a dark time in Lily’s life, and natural to one in her situation she had made decisions and took actions that she later came to regret.  When she had discovered that she was pregnant, she left the home of her uncle, who had not cared either way.  She had moved to Illinois, where she had befriended Francine, Ian’s future wife.  It was through Francine that she had met Henry.  But it had taken some time for Lily to accept that Henry had loved her for her, and not out of pity for her situation.  It had taken some effort, but it had paid off.  Henry was not in the habit of judging people based on their past. 

For Henry, it had been love at first site.  Lily was a stubborn, strong, independent woman who drew Henry to her like a child to a candy store.  She regretted the actions of her youth and was determined to make a life for her and her child.  Henry had loved her for her strong will, her determination, and her amazing capacity to love.  When they had married, Henry had felt like his life was finally complete.  He had the thing he had wanted for his entire life, a family. 

On the day of the accident, their wives had scheduled doctor’s appointments together.  Afterwards, mere moments before the accident, Lily had called Henry from the doctor’s office.  Both she and Francine had been pregnant.

            Then, as the two men were discussing going out for a celebration, there was a knock at the door.  When he had identified himself to the police, they had delivered the news.  He felt as though his whole world had come crashing down around him.  He was barely aware of Ian’s concerned questions, even less so as Ian spoke to the authorities and asked frantic questions.  The memory of Ian driving them both to the hospital was blurry and unfocused.  The only thing Henry remembered about the encounter was seeing the dead bodies of his wife and child, knowing that his wife carried a second.

            After the shock had passed, Henry had been half insane with rage and grief.  Both men had taken a sabbatical from teaching due to personal loss.  Henry had gone down a path of self-destruction, trying to drown the misery and pain in alcohol.  More than once Ian had to drag his friend out of a bar or club to prevent a riot as the bigger man attempted to vent his pain and anger. 

            It was two weeks after the accident that Henry had a revelation.  It had come to him in the middle of the night, as he stumbled out of his room toward the bathroom.  He still lived in the apartment he had shared with Lily, though he had been thinking of selling.  On his way back to his room he had spied Ian, sprawled out asleep on his couch.  Henry remembered that Ian had once again dragged Henry home, had taken care of him. Henry figured that Ian must have passed out from sheer exhaustion. 

That’s when it hit Henry.  Ian had been taking care of him this entire time, not taking time for himself to mourn his own loss.  Ian had put aside his own needs to take care of Henry.  With a pang of revulsion, Henry realized that he had not given his best friend a chance to mourn.

The revelation hit Henry like a ton of bricks.  Here he was, acting like a drunken ass while his best friend was practically killing himself to make sure Henry didn’t kill himself.  Henry had been stunned.  The revelation forced him to take a look at how despondent his life had become.  He should have been mourning for his family, treating their memory with honor.  He especially shouldn’t have been treating his best friend like he had been.  With a pang of horror, he realized that he had been acting like the ‘no good hoyden’ his foster family always saw him as. 

The next morning Henry had confronted Ian, all but begging his best friend for forgiveness at his behavior.  Ian had assured his friend that there was nothing to forgive.  There had been a heartbreaking, mournful session as the two finally vented their grief and sadness at their loss.  There had been many tears and sobbing confessions as the healing finally began for the both of them.

Thinking back on the memories, the man was beyond grateful for Ian’s friendship and support.  He knew that Ian appreciated the support Henry gave as well.  Thanks to their friendship, they were able to get past the grief and move on.  They grew sad every once and a while, such as on a birthday or anniversary.  But both men could mourn and go on, like they knew their loved ones wanted.  Henry was more grateful than ever for Ian’s presence in his life.

Henry loved Ian.  Not in a romantic fashion, not that he had anything against that.  But somehow, Ian filled a void that Henry carried around for as long as he could remember.  When the two men met in college, it was as if something inside Henry had sung, vibrated almost.  He found himself immediately drawn to the energetic blonde and as they bonded, for the first time in his life, Henry felt that void in his heart fill. 

Henry had loved his wife and son dearly there was no doubt about that.  But Ian had always meant something more to the younger man that Henry could not easily explain.  Ian was a kind, sympathetic individual who always put the needs of Henry and others above his own.  He was Henry’s best friend; he had always thought of the blonde as a brother, more real to him than the ones from his foster family.  Luckily for them both of their wives had been able to understand and appreciate how the two men felt for one another, how close they were.  For that, they had loved their wives all the more.

 

 

As he watched Ian dive into his breakfast, Henry couldn’t help but chuckle.  For his part, Ian loved the fact that he could always be himself around Henry and vise versa.  Henry never felt that he had to pretend to be someone else around his best friend.  For a moment Henry thought back to his foster family.  If Henry ever had the mind to go back to his foster parents and introduce them to Ian, the bigger man was sure they would have a heart attack.  Henry wondered if that would be before or after they would call the police.

When he was a baby Henry’s parents were killed when their home burned down.  He was shunted around before he was placed with his foster family at age seven.  Henry never felt as if he was one of them.  His foster parents were well-bred people, with connections high up in the social ladder.  Henry never felt as if they really had tried to help him feel as though he belonged.  He always felt like the outsider, a houseguest who had a prolonged stay. 

It had become obvious to Henry as he got older that his foster parents were the sort of people who took in “poor, unfortunate souls” like him to look better in the eyes of their well esteemed peers.  He trusted his senses when it came to people.  He'd found that people gave off signs that could be so easily missed, but somehow he always saw them...the wrinkle across the forehead that hid a frown...the tightness around the mouth that signified disapproval…the soft snort and barely stiffened posture that indicated disagreement.  Some people called it sixth sense, but Henry knew it was simply extraordinary observation and understanding of others.  Maybe that was in itself a sixth sense, something he had only recently come to realize. 

When Henry turned 18 and was released from his foster family, it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  He had been accepted into the college of his choice with a full ride scholarship and had a great job and access to a trust fund, which would provide him with money for a good apartment later on, and none if it was connected in anyway to his foster family.  Life was good.  In the middle of his freshman year of college, it got even better. 

 

*******Flashback

 

            _It was the middle of January and it had snowed hard for the past few days.  Henry was in the college library, getting in as much work as he could.  He certainly couldn’t do it at his dorm.  His roommate was loud, abrasive and reminded Henry of one of his foster brothers, Greg._

 _Greg was the oldest of his foster brothers, and the meanest.  All three of his foster brothers were nasty, cruel little boys who always took pleasure in their greatest pastime, which was picking on Henry.  They themselves were not foster children, and took great pleasure of reminding Henry of that fact.  In public they would show themselves off as the well behaved, proper children a family should have and at home they would into rude, loud, annoying little spoiled brats who got everything they wanted from their parents and tormented Henry to no end.  _

_Henry had no friends within the social circle his foster family was a part of.  He was quiet, modest and always had his nose in a book.  He had no real social skills or the attitude necessary for the game.  While his peers gossiped and pointed fingers, he kept his own nose clean and out of other people’s business.  This moral highroad approach to life had given his foster brothers all the ammunition they needed.  There was rarely any physical harm that couldn’t be passed off as a 'boys will be boys' mentality when his foster brothers weren’t being scolded for their ‘deplorable actions’ and ‘behavior unfitting proper children.’_

 _Of course Henry was duly punished for ‘setting a bad example’ and taking their kindness and generosity for granted when they had given him such a good home, shown him what a proper family should be which would be something he would never truly know, since he was nothing better than a common hoyden, a bastard child who should be glad that they had accepted him into their home when they could have tossed him onto the street, where he truly belonged. They of course, didn’t say that last part out loud, but Henry could read between lines._

 _Though Henry felt no love or affection from this family, he could never find any real, solid grounds so he could request a change.  He was in a good, clean household that provided for him and he was getting an education.  Was it really worth the effort to go through so much paperwork, to transfer out of a home most children would fight to get, just because he was a little unhappy?  So when court time came around he plastered on the appearance that he was a happy, settled little boy._

 _In hindsight Henry realized that if he had requested a change, if he had put up a good enough front, he probably would have been taken out of the place.  But he was out now, and away from Greg and his other foster brothers.  His roommate wasn’t quite as bad as Greg, but he was certainly annoying.  He tried his best to ignore his roommate and avoided him whenever possible._

 _Henry was sitting near the back among the shelves, away from any distractions.  He had his Calculus book open and was trying to make sense of the jumbled numbers and odd squiggly lines that he was sure someone had doodled across the book.  He was ready to slam the book closed and use it to bash his brains out._

 _Then someone laid a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump.  He turned to face the person behind him, and was met with a slightly older blonde young man, who smiled at him.  His blue eyes were alight with mischief and Henry knew instinctively that the blonde had made him jump on purpose.  Surprisingly, this only made Henry smile in return._

 _The blonde leaned over Henry’s shoulder to peer at his math book.  “Calculus, huh?  Sucks don’t it?” The blonde sat in the seat next to Henry, casually leaning back as though it were his place.  Henry nodded, staring at the blonde.  He didn’t like being interrupted when he studied, but he didn’t object to the presence of this strange young man._

 _Henry gave a small laugh.  “I’ll say.  I think I need the pocket translator because there’s no way they wrote this in English.”_

 _The blonde laughed and Henry found himself laughing with him.  The blonde’s laughter wasn’t derogatory, or forced just to make Henry feel better.  It was loud and infectious, and Henry’s heart soared at the genuine humor and the sincere twinkle of mirth and acceptance in the blonde’s sky blue eyes._

 _When they both calmed down, the blonde sat up in his chair.  He still had the smile, and Henry noticed that there was no force involved at that his eyes shone with a genuine love of life.  “So,” the blonde said.  “You want some help?  I did okay in Calculus.  I’m no math whiz but I think I can get you at least B material.  I’m Ian.”  He held his hand out to Henry to shake and Henry gladly accepted.  His heart warmed at the offer and the honest kindness that emanated from Ian.  For the first time, Henry felt a sense of friendship…and love.  As Henry shook Ian’s hand, he knew deep down that the two of them were going to be close.  His senses, his “sixth sense” seemed to all but scream it at him._

***********************************

 

Unlike the majority of the people Henry had known in his life, courtesy of his foster family, Ian was unconcerned with social graces and the latest, embarrassing gossip.  Unlike Greg, Carlton and Bentley, his foster brothers, Ian took no pleasure in tormenting the lives of others.  Instead, Ian preferred to lighten up people’s lives, help them in a time of need.  He was the first to jump and provide a friend to someone who needed one.  His bright, cheery personality was infectious and drew Henry like a dehydrated man to water.  That Ian was a modest, upstanding person with a sense of justice so similar to Henry’s own only drew him in more.  Ian’s “torments” consisted of practical jokes and pranks and when Ian laughed, it only made people want to laugh with him.  In Ian, Henry had found the brother he had always wanted.

 

Henry sipped his orange juice.  “So, I figure I’ll drive for the first couple of hours, and then you can take over?”

Ian paused in mid sip of his coffee.  His eyes widened as he remembered the small revelation he had last night.  He quickly set down his mug and sat up straight in his chair.  “Henry, we have to talk about this trip.”

Henry frowned.  “Why?  Ian what’s wrong?”

Ian leaned over and stared directly into Henry’s ice blue eyes.  “Where exactly are we going?  More to the point, where are we?”

Henry opened his mouth to answer and froze.  He frantically searched his mind for the answers that he knew should be there.  Seeing his companion’s confusion, Ian pressed on.  “Did we ever plan anything out, like when we were going to turn back?  How far are we planning to drive?  Do we even have a destination?  We just suddenly decided to take a road trip without even planning anything?  Since when have you ever done anything without planning every last detail?  Since when have I ever done that?”

The two men sat in silence.  Henry’s mind searched for answers to Ian’s questions now that he found himself asking the same things.  Ian was right.  The two of them just randomly decided to take a road trip, threw some things in a duffle bag and took off.  Neither of them had any clue where they were going. 

Henry’s thinking was mostly intuition, guided by something beyond logical reason.  The more he thought about it, the more he felt that the lack of preparation or even destination didn’t matter.  That somehow he knew where they were going.

Henry took a deep breath and hoped to high heaven that Ian wouldn’t think he was crazy.  “Ian, throughout this thing, this random road trip, did you ever get the feeling that, well, that we do have a destination?  That we’re not randomly driving all over the country?  That, that we, I don’t know, that-“

“That we do know where we’re going?  That we’re being guided somewhere?” Ian interrupted softly.  He had this same thought last night.  Henry nodded, relieved that Ian was thinking along the same lines.  They often communicated with each other with their eyes and subtle movements and signals.  They didn’t always need words to convey their thoughts and feelings.  It was second nature to them, almost as if they could read each other’s thoughts.

As their eyes met from across the small diner table, they conveyed the same thought:  ‘What do we do now?’

Ian shifted in his seat, and then grinned at Henry as the bigger man inadvertently did the same thing.  Henry glared, but smirked right back.  Ian sighed then picked at his remaining breakfast with his fork.  “As crazy as this may sound, I think we should keep going.”  A quick glance up at Henry told him that the bigger man seemed to agree with him, or at least showed no sign that he thought Ian was crazy.  “This pull or whatever odd feeling that we’re getting, I can’t help but feel that it’s leading us to where we are supposed to be.  Wherever we’re going, we’re supposed to be there.”

Henry said nothing, merely nodded.  As right as Ian’s words sounded, somewhere in the back of Henry’s mind a voice told him that this entire thing was crazy!  The same voice nudged at him to grab Ian, throw him into the old mustang parked out front and drive them back to Illinois full throttle. 

But he forced that small annoyance to shut up.  Henry felt the same way that Ian did, now that he acknowledged it.  Wherever they were going, it was where they needed to be.  Henry couldn’t explain the strange feeling or the pull either, but he couldn’t help but trust it.  It was as simple as that.  This was too right, and Henry whole-heartedly believed that they were doing the right thing.

Henry picked up the tab and threw a few dollars on the table.  He smirked at his best friend.  “So, I’ll drive until lunch?”

Ian returned the smirk and the two men left the small diner, climbed into Henry’s mustang and drove off.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review! I am an up and coming writer and wish to improve my work. Please and thank you.
> 
> Another note: All flames are fed to my wolves. They are quite vicious and I would rather not set them on you.


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